Kumir, Chapter 13: The Winnings

Jane carefully coiled and packed her rope back into her case as a few Incubiker women cleaned up after the party. The silver gossamer dress was casually wrapped like a sarong around her waist, and the other women cast surreptitious glances of hostility and lust at her casual nudity. Jane ignored them, enjoying the relative peace of the room now that the IncuBikers had gone off to deal with the truck camera. Georgia had smiled dreamily as her friend Ophelia had led her away, and Jane had returned the smile until her beautiful partner had left the room, the imprints of knots and spiraled rope like tiny fossils of pleasure all across her dark skin. Ophelia hadn’t said a word to Jane but had stared at her friend with sad, envious eyes.

Elsie had never regained consciousness as a few of the women had roughly picked her up. One of them grimaced as the bottle had finally slid, bloody, out of the girl’s relaxed ass and clattered to the littered floor.

“Can you believe what a slut she was? Jesus, giving head like that, and getting so drunk she broke her own fucking nose…” one of them muttered as she pulled Elsie’s arm over her shoulder.

“I know! Fucking stupid bitch…” replied her partner, sneering. “Like anyone’s gonna want to tap that ass now that it’s all tore up like that. Busted a tooth, too. Pretty girl’s not gonna be Michael’s little pet behind the gold door any more.”

Her companion shushed her as they dragged Elsie past Jane, but never looked up. As the door closed behind them, she finally allowed a small frown and shook her head. “Lambs and wolves…”

She started humming softly as she ran the lengths of rope through her hands, fingers expertly checking for imperfections or weak points. She smiled as her hands came to a slick section of rope, dark with Georgia’s cum, and she carefully coiled it into a plastic bag to be washed later. When the final rope had been inspected and wrapped she snapped the case shut and put her rings back on, the onyx on the left and the a pale blue chalcedony stone on her right.

She stood and looked around the deserted clubhouse thoughtfully. A gold-painted door was unobtrusively set into the back of the hall between an old Playboy calendar and a trio of hubcaps. Jane didn’t remember any guards near the door during the evening, but there had always been an IncuBiker sitting somewhere nearby, even during the contest and other entertainments. She walked over to it and examined the large industrial steel lock over the doorknob. She pushed experimentally. It was solid.

Still humming softly she glanced around to make sure she was alone. Jane lifted her hands in fists and touched her rings together. The black and pale blue stones made a soft click and the blue one began to glow, throwing an electric shine over Jane’s face as it brightened. The smell of ozone filled the air, and Jane slowly pulled the rings apart. The onyx stone was softening, sticking to the electric blue chalcedony, elongating like a dark taffy as she pulled . When the string of black tar finally tapered into a point, Jane gave a little snap to her right wrist and the rings separated. The blue one slowly faded. The black ring now had a long spike about five inches long stretching out from it. The tiny pointed tip waved like a tiny tentacle as if looking for something.

“Here you go, baby,” Jane crooned, in a voice much like the one that had seduced Georgia. She pushed the spike into the keyhole and whispered “Now grow for me!” A moment later she was rewarded with a solid click as the lock turned. The door slid open on silent oiled hinges, revealing a staircase going up.

Jane leaned forward and blew slightly on the ring, giving her wrist a little shake at the same time. The black pseudopod snapped off and dissolved with a tiny puff of black dust that disappeared into the grimy floor. Jane picked up her rope kit and started up.

The short passage opened into a small but luxuriously appointed loft space, with European styled furniture that was completely out of character with the biker stereotype downstairs. Jane shook her head a few times to adjust to the clean, and efficient lines of bright chrome and light polished wood. A pedestal bed with lustrous thick blankets and large pillows was the main focus, with an elegant leather couch facing a fireplace off to the side. Jane glanced up and gave an appreciative whistle as she saw the large screen inset in the ceiling, and she suspected the room was wired with a sophisticated but hidden sound system. On one side of the bed there was a small shelf filled with a few dozen well-worn books.

Jane resisted the urge to look through them, moving to the opposite side where a dresser topped by a large oval mirror was lit with theatre-style lights. There was a picture of Michael smiling and posing with a motorcycle taped to the upper left. As she passed the corner of the bed Jane froze, realizing that what she’d taken for a wall was actually a clever door, slightly ajar. The sound of a shower running came through the crack.

Jane stood there for a long moment, looking at the door, then to the floor, indecisive. Finally she muttered “Eris take it, who wouldn’t take a peek?” She knelt down and edged her head around the door.

Silently she thanked the chaotic gods she worshipped for the European styling; the shower only had one pane of glass. That meant that there was nothing to block Jane’s second glimpse of Isabella.

The red haired woman was arching her head back to rinse the shampoo out of the curls. Her body was all muscle and curves, the femininity of full hips and breasts contrasting with the flat muscle of her legs and torso. She had wide shoulders and a tattoo of a twining dragon eating its own tail inscribed around her bicep. Jane stared entranced at a stream of water coming off one elbow like a tiny waterfall. Isabella’s skin was smooth shining perfection caressed by rivulets that turned every dripping inch into a landscape of golden sensuality in the light of the heat lamp.

The last of the white suds pooled in lazy spirals towards the drain at Isabella’s feet, and her hands dropped to the back of her neck, massaging the sinews, her posture turning from the rapturous enjoyment of the pouring water to a weary resignation. Her hands worked at her own neck for a while, then dropped, along with Isabella’s chin, letting the rainfall streams just fall down over her. Jane stared at Isabella’s long dark lashes, closed tight against the world. Then she jumped as the woman’s low alto voice echoed in the shower. “Michael’s maid Darla will be here with towels for me any second.” Isabella turned her head slightly, and looked right at the voyeuristic blonde. Her eyes were green. “You’d better hide. She’s a snitch.”

Jane recovered quickly from the surprise and stepped inside the bathroom. She flashed a quick, embarrassed grin at Isabella, who didn’t return it. Jane blushed and tried to look calm. She heard the sound of the maid’s boots coming up the stairs behind her, and looked for cover in the tiny room. “Goddamn Eurostyle,” she swore at the freestanding sink and elegant shelves on the wall. Not even a laundry hamper to hide in. Jane frowned grimly and turned towards the door in a combat stance ready to take out the maid and escape.

Instead she squawked as she felt Isabella grab the back of her neck. The tall woman yanked Jane back into the shower stall. Jane felt water fill her eyes, spluttering out her shocked protest. Then she shut her mouth at the smooth metallic click as Isabella shut the door completely. Jane shook her head to clear the water from her eyes, her hair spiking out like a blond terrier. She froze as Isabella lay a finger across her lips.

“You still in there, woman?” The maid’s voice was muffled through the door. “You’re gonna be nuthin’ but a prune. Michael’s comin’ back soon, you best be ready. He’s out there doing mischief, and you know how horny those boys are when they’ve been stickin’ it to the man.” The woman chuckled coarsely with a smoker’s rasp, “Ha! Gonna be stickin’ it to the woman, too. Might even get me some attention tonight, now that Elsie’s out.”

Isabella called out through the closed door. “What happened to Elsie?” She had slight southern accent smooth with sultry round vowels, and in spite of the ridiculous situation Jane hoped she would talk some more.

The maid laughed again. “Bitch got so drunk she fell over while sucking cock and broke her own damn nose,” There was no sympathy in her voice. “Then the crazy cunt shoved a beer bottle up her own ass tryin’ ta show off, too,” The maid paused, as if realizing the improbability of her own words. “Least, that’s what I heard…”

Isabella frowned, as if trying to make sense of it. “That doesn’t sound like – ” she started, then cut herself off. “Whatever. I need to shave before he gets back – you know Michael likes smooth pussy. It’s gonna take me a while,” Isabella grinned suddenly at Jane. “Unless you want to come in and help?” Jane stifled a yelp and did her best Are you crazy? look with her eyes.

“Fuck you, lezzy slut, I ain’t gettin’ anywhere near that skuzzy cooter of yours! Shave your own damn pussy, whore!” The woman’s voice was edged with panic and Jane smiled as she heard the rapid sound of receding footsteps down the stairs.
Isabella lowered her finger finally and Jane resisted the urge to chase it with a kiss. She moved from under the shower so that she could look up at the woman as the water finally cleared from her eyes.

Isabella was even more stunning up close, and it took Jane a moment to focus her thoughts beyond Beautiful… “You knew I would look,” she said, slowly. “You opened the door so that I could see.”

Isabella gave a half smile. “Yeah…I don’t have any money, so I figured I’d give you something else in exchange for helping me get the fuck out of here.”

Jane opened her mouth, then shut it. Looking down, she took a breath as if to say something and again stopped, shutting her mouth with a snap. Isabella waited, her head cocked quizzically. Jane grinned, some of her cockiness coming back. “Don’t mind me. I’m just trying to sort through all the stupid and obvious questions, and get to one that actually matter.” She tilted her head, slowly gazing down Isabella’s body under the water, then looked up again and smiled wickedly. “Ok, got one. Wanna guess?”

Isabella couldn’t help but grin herself at the bedraggled blonde pixie facing her, the wet dress still wrapped around her jaunty hips. She played along. “What do I want? No, too easy…” Jane’s smile widened. “You’re not going to ask about my escape plan yet. I already told you I can’t pay…” As she mused, her brows furrowed in a way that made Jane want to tiptoe up and kiss it away. “Um…how did I know you were up here?”

Jane laughed, reaching her arms around Isabella’s torso in a hug. A head shorter, Jane planted her chin in Isabella’s cleavage and looked up at her with adoring puppy-dog eyes. “No, my gorgeous goddess of the shower, of course you knew I was up here. There’s enough energy crackling between the two of us to power a visiometric.”

“A what?”

Jane swore softly. “A…a cel phone, I mean. Anyway, if I had half a brain I would have been in this shower long before, instead of playing spy vs. spy on your pretty ass.” Her hands dropped to cup that part of Isabella who wiggled appreciatively. She stretched and managed to grab Jane’s ass as well, squeezing and tilting her hips up. Their mons pressed together as they moved, and Jane let out a happy sigh. “Oh…my…”

Isabella gave a throaty chuckle. “Focus, gamine. What’s the question that matters?”

Jane gave a little mischievous wiggle, pressing her mound against Isabella again. “Why, the polite one, of course. You want help shaving that pretty little snatch of yours, or do I just get to watch?”

A little later Jane was thoughtful as she toweled off Isabella’s back. “As escape plans go, this is definitely one of the most enjoyable. And I usually like my girls with curls…Mind telling me why we shouldn’t be a more concerned about Michael getting back?”

Isabella shrugged, which Jane found delightful for at least two reasons. “Usually Michael calls when he’s about to come back from a run – he likes me to be ready for him.” She gave a little grimace. “So as long as I don’t get a text message that says ‘position 3, in the dancing scarves’ we should be ok.”

“Position 3?” Jane’s leer was irrepressible.

Isabella smiled sweetly, and pushed some of the damp red curls back from her forehead. “Show you later, darlin’, if you can get me out of here. Her smiled faded a bit, and she put down the towel. “I have to tell you, aside from being ready to go, I don’t really have a plan, per se. I just knew that if I waited long enough, some opportunity would present itself. And,” she reached out and stroked Jane’s cheek, “you did. Much cuter and sweeter than I ever expected…”

Jane flushed, fighting the twin urges to pull away fall into Isabella’s arms. Pragmatism won out, and she gently pushed the woman away. She walked out of the bathroom and to the room’s solitary window – double-paned, no doubt to prevent Isabella from escaping. It gave a fair view of St. Antoine Street. No motorcycles were in sight, and the lights of the Hellas Café blinked invitingly, casting a neon gleam down the dark street.

Jane looked at the café for a long moment, then shook her head. “No. Too obvious. We need someplace they won’t expect…” She called back over her shoulder. “Isabella, how soon can you be ready to go?”

“I’m ready now,” Isabella said as she buttoned her tight jeans low under her belly button. Jane took a moment to appreciate the perfection of that navel, then shook herself. Isabella pulled a t-shirt over her head. Standing for a moment, she suddenly snapped her fingers. “Whoa. Wait a sec,” and disappeared into the bathroom. She was back a moment later, tucking a small folded packet into her jeans. “Passport and some mad money I stashed away.”

“Ah,” Jane said, and looked pensive. “It’s risky, but I think now is our best chance. The boys are occupied trying to keep Tony’s paws off evidence that they are trafficking in prostitution.”

Isabella’s eyes went wide with feigned shock. “Oh, no! It cain’t be true, Miss Jane! Not mah Michael!” She held the back of her hand dramatically to her forehead, eyes cast to the heavens, and then, seeing Jane’s expression still serious, dropped the farce. She passed Jane a dark grey bundle. “Here are your ‘clothes’, and I do use the term loosely…”

Jane examined the dripping shroud of dark silver fabric and shook her head, “Ah, well, ye lived well, if not long…” She dropped it with a sodden thump on the floor. “Got some sweats and a t-shirt I can use?” Isabella nodded smugly as she pulled another bundle from behind her back. Jane got dressed quickly and muttered “I am going to need to get my kit, and my clothes. I also am not quite done with these boys…”

“Done with what?”

Jane looked up sharply. “With makin’ money, of course. There’s still a few sheep in wolves clothing waiting to be fleeced. But you should get gone, especially after what I saw tonight.” She gave another sad smile. “I’m not normally so sentimental, mind you, but that little boy of yours is a charmer.”

Isabella’s eyes grew wistful. “Joey? You’ve seen him? How is he?”

Jane waved the questions away. “Later! Right now we have to get you gone before the boys get back and without any of those charming sisters of mercy seeing you.” She nodded towards the staircase where the maid had exited.

“They aren’t all like her,” Isabella shook her head. “Elsie is a sweet girl. Darla must have exaggerated…Did she really…” Worried, Isabella looked to Jane for reassuance.

Jane had none. “She did. I saw it all and it was no accident.” She sighed. “Some guys just won’t take yes for an answer…” Seeing Isabella’s questioning look, she shrugged. “Sorry. I’m all for people doing whatever the hell they want with each other, up to and including rough sex. Hell, for me, that’s pretty much a requirement if you want to keep my interest.” She took Isabella’s arm and led her towards the stairs. “But the charming Doukas brothers decided to take consent out of the equation, and I find that I’m not as interested in working for them as I used to be.” Motioning for Isabella to follow her down, she paused at the door at the bottom. “I’ll go first, and if anybody asks, I’ll just say I was claiming my winnings.”

“Winnings from what?” Isabella asked.

Jane smirked. “I’ll tell you later, in exchange for position 3. For now, just wait for my paradiddle – that’s a knock like this,” she demonstrated a quick rhythm on Isabella’s breasts. It broke the tension and the tall woman giggled. “Go straight out the club and to the left. I wish I could just send you to Hellas to be with Alex and Joey, but that would get Jason in trouble. Plus, it’s too obvious. We – I – will figure out somewhere for you to hide once we -”

“The church,” Isabella interrupted. “Padre Innocente will help.”

Jane looked skeptical. “You sure?” she asked. “I heard he was in the Doukas’ pocket.”

“He is,” the redhead said matter of factly. “But he has hopes of saving my soul, one orgasm at a time, and so I think, for me, he’ll listen.”